


home (and what we come back to after we've left)

by linoleumfloor



Category: Naruto
Genre: DFAB reader, F/M, M/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, i also call this "this is pretty yikes", i wrote this for my shitty ass imagine blog whoops, it's only shitty bc i own it, lmao the title is long af, theres no specific gender in the fic tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 10:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linoleumfloor/pseuds/linoleumfloor
Summary: Home is you.It is the laugh that rumbles against his chest when he holds you close, the fingers that hold his hands as a silent way of telling him to not let go. Home is the hugs, the kisses, the way you moan as he leaves hickeys across your neck and on your thighs before he shows you he loves you.Home is everything about you he has learned to love.





	home (and what we come back to after we've left)

When he walks into his home, he finds you on the couch, but you aren’t waiting for him. You’re reading, anticipating what happens next instead of fussing over him. He had always liked that about you, that you didn’t feel the need to be overly nurturing to him whenever any mission happened. When you needed to be, you would shower him with the worry and fear you had for him if it was something dire. But despite the welcome he is not immediately given, he is glad to be home, to be with you and see you and, for the first time in weeks, touch you.

The curve of your lips when you finally do give him a short ' _Welcome home_ ’ have him wanting more than just a kiss, more than the feel of your arms around him when you inevitably get up from your seat to give him a more proper greeting.

You walk partway, as Kakashi goes to you faster than you get up. He brings a hand to your cheek, the feeling of your skin against his still as amazing as he’d remembered. You move his mask down his face and run your fingers across his lips. He leans into your touch, comforted by the soft feel of your fingertips against him.

But he still craves more.

He wants you to run your fingers through his unruly hair, scrape your nails down his back. He wants to feel you bite his lips, leave a mark because he knows no one else will see it – no one but you. Kakashi leans in to kiss you, the hunger and longing evident in the way he so desperately mashes them against your own.

He wraps an arm around you and picks you up, still kissing you with such liveliness as he sits you on the arm of the couch. He pulls away, watching the way you pant and feeling the dull pain of you nails digging into the back of his neck. Your eyes are half-lidded, mouth parted and bruised but he knows that you’re still wanting more, almost as much as he wants to feel you against him.

“I missed you,” he says as he molds his lips on your neck. He lets his hands roam, lets himself reacquaint with the feel of your body, your warmth. Every touch lingers, movements are made to make you feel how much he loves you, even more than just the physical part of you he keeps grasping onto like it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to feel your presence. His teeth sink into the junction between your neck and shoulder, and the pads of his fingers go under your shirt.

He is rough, and his hands make you feel on fire but you know the passion behind it all is what tells you that it’s more than just wanting your body. He wants you to be there, be close in a way that’s more than just skin-to-skin. He wants you; the bareness of you body as you strip away your shirt, the temptation you give him as you bring him in for another kiss. There is more than just wanting you.

He needs you to kiss him like there’s no tomorrow, like he’s all you have just like he’s been treating you since he came home. He needs you to be there, not just want. He needs your whispers of acceptance and understanding, he needs you to know that you’re one of the only good things in his life. He loves you, every part of you that he’s ever seen of you he has learn to love and accept the same way you learned to love him. Kakashi needs you.

Once more he pulls away from the burning of your lips to undress himself and give you time to breathe. When his shirt is removed, you look at his body. It is littered with bruises and cuts, some healing, but most old and faded into scars. You pull him toward you, hands delicately touching the new injuries. The warmth against the dwindling pain in each slash that marks him makes him shiver, but he still lets you continue each motion. You move onto tracing the sensitive skin of formed, purple bruises along his abdomen and chest. He sets his hands on your thighs, trying to ground himself. His head finds itself resting on your shoulder, but you still go on with your ministrations. You move to his back, the fingers of your right hand moving along his spine, your eyes concentrated on the contraction of his muscles. He is putty in your hands, but you are just as moldable.

Kakashi starts to trace your collarbone, letting his index finger trail over onto the middle of your chest and letting it glide down to the waistband of your drawstring sweats. One hand unties the knot of your pants, and the other stretches it out, giving him a peek at the clothing underneath. He slowly pulls your pants down, his head still resting on your shoulder and your hands still tracing shapeless forms around his back. The soft sound of fabric dropping to the floor is heard and you feel a calloused hand move back up your legs.

He hears the breath of air you let out as his hand begins to pull down your underwear at the same pace as your pants. You move to grip his biceps, glancing down at the last article of clothing being taken off of you as the man who does it leaves a smirk against your skin.

He leaves open-mouthed kisses down the canvas of your chest, and when he pulls away the cool air that fills the room contrasts with the rising heat of your body. He spreads your legs, the view of Kakashi kneeling before you, almost burying himself between your thighs has desire spreading through you.

He grabs you by your hips and, _shit_ , does it make you whine. The dragging out of the foreplay and focus on the wounds that were scattered across his skin took your attention off of how wet you became. Kakashi moves his lips along your heat, thrusting his tongue in slowly. You can feel the little movements he makes, the slight roll of his tongue each time he pulls it in, the constant up and down motions of his jaw that lightly quivering thighs press into.

You can feel his short nails start to dig into your lower back, thumbs still harshly pressed into your hipbones. The wet sounds between your legs has you flushing, each flick of his tongue on you causing high-pitched moans to come from your throat. You grab a fistful of his hair, your hips bucking as much as you can through his vice-like grip. The moans that come from him are much louder than yours, despite his being muffled. He moves his bobbing head opposite of your hips, the sharp pricks of pain on his scalp from your grip on his hair spurring him on.

He starts to focus on your clit, each lick causing the quaking of your thighs to magnify. He flattens his tongue, and you know without looking he’s gazing up at you and he’d have a shit-eating grin if he weren’t preoccupied with eating you out. “ _Fuck. You,_ ” you wheeze out, yanking his hair to emphasize the mock-anger behind your words. You just want him to make you come.

He momentarily moves away, the lower half of his face glistening. “Sweetheart, I’m trying.” And he takes a hand off of your hips only to bring it to your heat. He thrusts two fingers inside of you, giving a lazy smirk at the way you gasp and clench around him. It’s only when he puts his mouth back on you that you feel your release. You wrap your legs around Kakashi’s head, the heels of your feet digging into his back. Your hands are still pulling at his hair, strands you’re sure have probably been yanked from his scalp in you shuddering orgasm. He works through the orgasm, mouth still melding against your lower lips.

You slowly unfurl the fingers in his hair, smoothing out the mess of strands. You let your thighs rest on his shoulders and watch as he moves away from your heat once more, his head falling on your leg. He wipes your release off his face with the back of his hand, giving you a wink. He pushes you back onto the couch, then stands, letting his numbed legs find feeling once more. He leans over your panting form, his arms supporting him from crushing you. “We aren’t done, not yet,” he whispers in your ear.

You only grab his neck and kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> if you did like the fic i'm still open for headcanons/scenarios at imagineityaknow.tumblr.com lmao. i just get a little ramble-y with headcanons


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